


I want to do bad things with you

by brianmaybrianmay



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, Hooking up, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:29:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26318719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brianmaybrianmay/pseuds/brianmaybrianmay
Summary: During a quiet night at a POG camp, Nate has a question that he needs answered.
Relationships: Brad Colbert/Nate Fick
Comments: 6
Kudos: 79





	I want to do bad things with you

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! 
> 
> I was inspired by that scene in Stay Frosty where out of context, it looks like Nate is asking Brad to sneak off with him. Not quite where this fic went, but it was sure inspired by it! 
> 
> as always, about the characters portrayed in generation kill, and not the real life marines

If Brad was being honest with himself, disappointed didn't even come quote close to how he felt about this entire war. 

Misled summed it up too. Jerked around. Fucked up the ass dry. He was pretty sure any one of those terms accurately summed up not just _his_ feelings on the war, but the entire platoon. 

He'd already talked about this with Kocher and Pappy a couple of days ago, before they'd been ordered into that bullshit mission of crossing the bridge into Muwaffiqiyah, before Pappy had been injured and been casevac'd from the Platoon. They were the most highly trained unit in the entire Marine Corps. Swift, silent, deadly. And they'd been dropped into Humvee's and were being used as cannon fodder. As he'd put it; perfectly tuned Ferrari's in a demolition derby. He was able to express his thoughts on the matter to the other TL's, hell, to the other members of his own team too. He was pretty sure any of the other twenty men of the same or lower ranking in the Platoon would probably share the same views as he did. Maybe even Gunny Wynn, if he was lucky. 

Lieutenant Fick had always been another matter though. He'd hesitantly chanced it with Lieutenant Fick once or twice, voicing his opinion on occasions where the mission they'd been given seemed even more bullshit than usual, or when Captain Schwetje had given them his moto speech on who the enemy was. He'd always been shut down though, the LT unwilling to listen to any complaints that they had about their command structure. He'd always admired the Lieutenant - as he was permanently referred to in his head. If he let his guard down and started thinking of him as just 'Nate', then that was opening the door for all sorts of other unwelcome thoughts he might have about the other man. 

They were Sergeant Colbert and Lieutenant Fick, nothing more than that was allowed. And if he was being honest, he was pretty sure it wasn't welcomed from Fick's side either. They respected each other, they had each others six as Platoon Commander and Team Leader, but that was as far as it went. 

He wasn't letting himself dwell on any of that though. 

For now, he was glad that he'd been left to his own devices. He wasn't exactly in the mood for socialising. They had stopped at a POG camp, and while it meant that they had a little freedom to let their guard down and catch up on some sleep, he was pretty sure that them being here at all meant that their time in the war was coming to an end. The main Marine force would be spearheading the show to Baghdad, and they would probably still be sitting here by the time they got there. Like he'd said, it was bullshit. 

Ray and Walt were asleep in the Humvee, Walt curled up in the back where Trombley would usually be sat, but where he'd been sitting lately. He worried about him, actually. Ever since he'd shot the man in the car at the roadblock, the younger man hadn't been himself. He hadn't been sleeping, he hadn't been paying attention when he was supposed to have been watching his sector. It was for their own safety as much as Walt's that he'd swapped he and Trombley's positions in the Humvee - if he wasn't focused when he was up on the Mark 19, he was a liability to the entire Platoon. Ray was sprawled in the drivers seat, his mouth open with his head propped between the back of his seat and the window frame. He was less worried about him, but still somewhat relieved that he was actually getting some sleep. He wasn't sure how much sleep Ray had actually gotten since they'd arrived in Iraq, but he wouldn't have been surprised if it was still in the single digits. He knew that the amount of Ripped Fuel he was ingesting probably had a lot to do with that.

He was pretty sure that Trombley was off pulling guard duty with Baptista and Holsey, and he didn't actually know where Reporter was. That was fine by him, once he wasn't wandering off beyond the perimeter of the camp - although he supposed that Reporter was smarter than any of them gave him credit for, even if he was a liberal civilian dicksuck, as Ray so eloquently put it. 

He glanced up when he noticed movement to his three, offering a slight smile to Fick as he approached him, "Sergeant." The Lieutenant said in greeting, sliding his rifle to the side as he leaned next to Brad on the hood of the Humvee, close enough for their shoulders to brush together. 

"Sir." He said in response, moving over minutely to give the other man a little more room. 

"You put the kids to sleep?" Fick asked, amusement ghosting across his face as he glanced over his shoulder, back at where Ray and Walt were sleeping in the Humvee. 

"Yeah. Walt is the good kid, he sleeps when he's told. Ray needs to be assured he can do what he likes and then be left to his own devices until he talks himself to sleep." He explained with a shrug, his voice low so as not to wake his other two team members, "You?"

"I'm pretty sure Stafford sang Christeson to sleep with the soothing tones of today's rap music. Where's Trombley?" 

"Guard duty, along with Baptista and Holsey. I can't help you with the Reporter's whereabouts, but I'm sure he's somewhere with Chaffin and Jacks, doing his best to bring them around to seeing the world through his liberal pussy lenses." 

Fick cracked a small smile at that before turning more to face the front. For a moment, they stood in silence, listening to the sounds of gunfire in the distance. There were Cobra's going back and forward over the camp, and he couldn't help but feel that bitterness return at the fact that they'd been left here like sitting ducks.

"Man, they're prepping Baghdad hard." Fick pointed out after a couple of minutes, faintly illuminated by the few lights they had set to sparsely around where they had parked the Humvee's.

"And we're in a fucking POG camp." He muttered, unable to keep the bitterness out of his tone, "It's over for us. We won't be a part of the show in Baghdad." 

"Yeah."

"This isn't what we trained for." He reminded Fick, glancing in his direction, "I just wanted to get _one_ real Recon mission in this war, y'know? Putting us in these is an affront to my warrior spirit. I'm a hunter, not a fucking truck driver corralling gun platforms." He was aware of the fact that he probably sounded like a petulant child, but he just.. he couldn't help it. He couldn't help how disappointed he was in this entire thing.

"Brad, we were the fucking first boots on the ground in the American invasion of Mesopotamia. And you got your men out alive." Fick reminded him, his expression too close to optimistic for Brad's liking, "Might be sad about not getting your mission, but for me? I got to tell you, I'm glad this is over." He supposed he couldn't really blame him though. With everything Fick had been through on this deployment, he supposed it was only natural that he was looking forward to the end of it. He was the only competent officer they'd had, and he'd spent the entire time dealing with threats from Godfather and Schwetje, as well as Griego trying to prove how big his dick was by calling him a coward in front of E2's and E3's. He'd been livid with anger on Fick's behalf, so he couldn't imagine how the LT must have been feeling.

"One other thing." Fick continued after a moment, "No more cat holes. This fucking POG camp we're in has a legit slit trench latrine. Really." He said with a grin, nodding back in the direction of the latrines. 

He let his expression slide into something neutral then, before shooting a quick glance in Fick's direction again, "That's my Recon mission, then." 

He grinned sharply at Fick then, unwilling to let his mind process the warm smile that it earned him in return. It was just the two of them here, in somewhat relative privacy - he couldn't be held accountable for his actions if he let himself think too hard about the pretty curve of his Lieutenant's mouth when he smiled at him like that. 

Nodding, he pushed himself off the hood of the Humvee, noticing from the corner of his eye how Fick did the same, before he made himself walk in the direction of Two One Bravo's Humvee. He could hear radio chatter coming in over the victor as he approached it, although he wasn't quite able to make out what they were saying. He was pretty sure that it was Jacks on the radio though, talking to somebody from Team Three. 

"Hey." He said as he approached the Humvee, shooting a small smile in Poke's direction.

"Hey." Poke said in response, turning off the red flashlight he'd been using to read whatever it was that he'd been reading, "I put my babies down, think I'm gonna get some shut eye." He said, nodding towards where the other three in his Humvee were sleeping - minus Garza, who he was pretty sure had been hanging around Team Two, last he'd seen him. 

"I, uh.. I want you to know you've done good, Tony." He murmured, looking down at the other man. He wasn't sure why he'd suddenly felt the need to let him know, but he just.. he knew Poke had been struggling with his faith in the war lately. Hell, they all had. With the amount of civilian casualties they had been racking up lately, he knew most of the men were starting to think critically of why they were here. Poke seemed to have been affected especially badly by it though, maybe because of the fact that he had two young daughters himself.

"You earned a lot of reputation in the Recon community as my ATL." He continued, "You've always had my six, and I just want you to know that I really appreciate that. And it's been-" 

"Do you realise the shit that we've done here, the people we've killed?" Poke interrupted him, "Back in the civilian world, dog, we did this? We would go to prison." 

Fuck, he knew that. Did Poke not realise that he knew that? The shit that they'd done here, all in the name of liberating these people and making their country a safer place for them, he was pretty sure all they had done was fuck things up for them even further. He was completely aware of all the fucked up shit that they had done. 

He forced a smile though, rolling his eyes, "Poke, you're thinking like a Mexican again." He told him, "Think like a white man. Over there, they'll be laying on the medals for what we did."

He had to think like that, he had to tell himself that what they were doing here was a good thing. He was pretty sure he'd lose his mind otherwise. 

They were interrupted by Lilley sitting up, bleak expression on his face as he pulled his flak jacket back on.

"What's with you, dog?" Poke asked, frown on his face as he looked at the younger man.

"I'm tweaking, bro. Don't feel right unless I'm strapped. I'm gonna go pull guard duty." He told them, grabbing his rifle before letting himself out of the Humvee. 

The two of them watched him go, before Brad sighed and shrugged as he caught Poke's eye again. He got it, really. He knew how Lilley was feeling. Sometimes it was hard to listen to the shit, to even pretend to try and be optimistic. Hell, he'd been the same with Fick only a couple of minutes earlier. He hadn't wanted to listen to the 'well it could have been worse' speech. 

He gave Poke a quick nod before turning away, figuring he'd go find that latrine that Fick had mentioned. Christ fucking knew he could do with even the small luxury of not having to squat over a hole in the ground to take a shit. 

He glanced up as he was approached, surprised to find Godfather stood in front of him. If he was being perfectly honest, there was an individual that he could do without having to interact with. Especially with the way he'd reprimanded Fick for trying to unfuck Schwetje when he was trying to call an arty strike right on top of them. He wasn't thinking of that though, Fick didn't need him to defend his honour for him.

"Sir." He said with a nod, hoping that he'd be allowed to pass without conversation.

"Sergeant." Godfather greeted, "They're speaking pretty highly of First Recon at division headquarters. The general thinks we're slaying dragons."

"I'm pleased to hear that, sir." 

Maybe in Godfather's head, they were slaying dragons. Mattis' too. They didn't see what was really going on though, they didn't see the civilian casualties that they were stacking up alongside the road. It was all bullshit, and he hated that they couldn't see it, that they still saw themselves as the conquering heroes. He'd made that remark shortly after they'd arrived in Iraq, but he wasn't sure how much truth there was in that statement anymore.

"But, between you and me." Godfather continued, "It's bullshit. You men need another mission." 

He turned away slightly, glancing off in the same direction that he and Fick had been looking earlier, considering the fighting in the distance. 

It was right then that Brad realised that it was Godfather's need for approval that was going to get somebody killed.

He turned back to Brad after a moment, giving him a smile that he was pretty sure was supposed to be reassuring, "Tanks are gonna lead the way into Baghdad, but we want to get in the game, too." 

"Yes, sir." 

"Be advised, Brad. Stay frosty." Godfather reminded him, before turning away with a nod. 

He swallowed thickly as Godfather walked off, before rolling his eyes as he continued in the direction he'd been heading. Maybe their part in the war wasn't as over as they'd thought it was, but honestly? He was pretty sure that it wasn't because they were needed. It was all because Godfather was angling for a gold star from General Mattis. 

Maybe they'd get their Recon mission after all. But he couldn't help but wonder if it was worth it, especially if it came at the price of one of their lives.

He raised his eyebrows as he came across the latrine, letting out a soft 'huh'. Okay, maybe he was a simple man, but he maintained that it was the little things in life that kept him happy. 

A couple of minutes later, he left the latrines slightly happier than he had been when he'd reached them. Maybe he'd even try to get a couple of hours sleep, he mused, as he strolled back to his own Humvee. They were on twenty-five percent watch, and Trombley was already off keeping watch. He wasn't sure when they'd next get the opportunity to sleep without feeling like they had to watch their backs, so he'd try to get at least an hour or two before going to check on Trombley, see if he wanted to switch and catch some sleep. Honestly though, he was just glad that Walt and Ray were sleeping at least. 

When he got back to the Humvee though, Walt was still sleeping, but Ray blinked up at him, his eyes bleary. 

"Hey." He greeted as he rounded the Humvee. 

"Hey." Ray mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands before nodding towards the handheld radio, "LT was on the comms for you. He's in his truck, he wants to see you." 

"Did he say what he wanted?" 

"Nope, he just said to send you over when you were back." 

He nodded, adjusting the strap of his rifle before shutting the door again. He kind of had a bad feeling about this, and he couldn't help but wonder if Godfather had gone to find Fick and had given him the same bullshit speech about getting back in the game. He wouldn't have been surprised if he went to find Fick, only to be told that they had new orders and to get his team moving. Honestly though, he found himself hoping that that wasn't the case. They'd had enough shit, they deserved a break until at least morning. 

He approached the command truck, able to make out the shape of Fick sat in the front seats with Gunny Wynn. They seemed to be reading something together, heads bent close together as they looked at whatever it was that Gunny was holding. He had a bad feeling that it was a new map sheet. 

"Sir." He greeted as he approached Fick's window. 

The younger man looked up, smile crawling onto his face as he realised that it was Brad approaching him, "Sergeant." 

"Ray said you were looking for me, sir." 

"Yeah, if I could have a word." Fick said with that same small smile, letting himself out of the vehicle. 

He stepped back as Fick climbed out of the Humvee, trying his best to look anywhere but at the long stretch of the other man's legs. Their MOPP suits were bulky and shapeless, but it wasn't hard to see that Fick was in shape underneath all of that fabric, that he was lean and rangy. He instead glanced at whatever it was that Gunny had turned his attention back to, surprised to find that it was a magazine rather than a new map sheet. He was pretty sure it wasn't a skin mag. He knew that Fick was only human, but he just.. he couldn't quite picture it in his head.

"Sergeant." Fick said again, nodding his head in an indication for him to follow him.

He did what he was asked, following slightly behind Fick until they reached a supply tent. There was nobody else around, and it seemed that this particular supply tent had been pretty abandoned. Obviously they'd been given the run of the camp, but he knew the men all felt more comfortable just sleeping in their Humvee. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what the fuck it was that Fick wanted with him, what he couldn't say in front of Gunny or any of the other men. 

He followed him inside, standing at rest while Fick shut the entrance flap to the tent. When he turned back to Brad though, he seemed uneasy - and that really didn't bode well.

"Sir, is there a problem?" He eventually asked, when it seemed that Fick wasn't going to say anything. 

"No, there's no problem." He started, "It's just.." He trailed off again, his teeth catching his lower lip as he apparently turned over his words in his head, "It looks like we're done here." 

Okay. Not what he'd been expecting. He'd assumed that Godfather had caught Fick, that he'd informed him that he was looking for another mission for them. Whatever it was that Fick wanted to discuss, it seemed it had nothing to do with our orders. 

"Not necessarily." He pointed out, "Godfather wants to get us back in the game." 

Fick just looked at him, his green eyes piercing even in the dim light of the supply tent. He seemed to shake off what Brad had just said though, sliding his hands into the pockets of his MOPP suit, "Maybe, yeah." He murmured, "I don't know what's next. We could be stepping off in the morning, we could be sent home. Now that we have a minute though, I just.. I need to know. Is it just me?" 

"Is what just you, sir?" He asked, swallowing thickly around the lump he could feel in his throat. He had a slight inkling of what Fick could be talking about, but he just.. he was sure that that wasn't the case. He'd never gotten any sort of indication that Fick might feel any sort of way about him.

Fick continued to hold his gaze for a moment - seemingly trying to telepathically convey to Brad whatever it was that he meant - before he stepped forward into his space. He reached out, tentatively pressing a hand to Brad's hip over the fabric of his MOPP suit as he leaned in close enough to breathe the same air as him. He didn't move any further than that though, tilting his head up just far enough to look Brad in the eye, "This." He said softly, "Did I misunderstand?" 

He recognised that for the out that it was. He could have told Fick that, yes, he had misunderstood, and he knew that that would be the end of it. To do so would be lying to himself though, and lying to Fick too. He knew what he wanted, and apparently Fick wanted the same thing. 

So he shook his head minutely, letting his eyes drop to Fick's mouth for a moment - his incredibly pretty mouth, "No, sir. You didn't."

It seemed that that was all the encouragement, or permission, that Fick needed, as he raised up onto his toes then to press their lips together. As far as kisses went, it was pretty chaste. Just the firm press of Fick's mouth against his own. 

They pulled apart after a moment, and he found himself following Fick's mouth as he moved back into his own space. 

"Oh." Fick said softly, his mouth curving up into a grin, "Not just me then." 

"Not just you." He agreed, reaching out to press his own hands to Fick's waist, despite the fact that the bulky MOPP suit left a lot to the imagination.

Fick moved a hand up to cup the curve of his jaw then, dragging his thumb along the edge of Brad's lower lip. He looked.. intrigued, to say the least, despite the fact that he was the one with a mouth to die for. Honestly, he knew they had all been struggling with trying to justify this whole war to themselves, but he'd happily admit that he'd go to war over Nate Fick's mouth. Fick pressed his thumb to his lower lip after a moment, and he parted his lips to let him press his thumb into his mouth, dragging his tongue along the pad, "Fuck, Brad.." Fick whispered, the roughness in his voice igniting a curl of heat in Brad's stomach. 

He quickly pulled his rifle off over his head and set it aside - Brad doing the same - before he raised his hands back then to cup Brad's face properly between them, pulling him back in for another kiss. 

This kiss wasn't anything like the last one. The last one had been closed mouthed, almost tentative. The last kiss had been a testing of the waters. Now, Fick held Brad's face between his hands as he slid his tongue along the seam of his lips, pressing his body up against the older man's. He went easily with his, parting his lips and meeting the glide of Fick's tongue with his own. It wasn't the first time during this war that he had cursed their MOPP suits, but he found himself doing so again as he fisted the thick material where it was bunched at Fick's waist. He'd spent so long trying to pretend to himself that he didn't want this, and now all he wanted was to press himself against that lean body without the harsh material in between. 

Fick's mouth was warm and wet when he licked into it, and he couldn't help the groan that was dragged from his throat when the younger man pulled him even closer and ran his tongue along the back of his teeth. 

"Fuck.." He murmured on a sigh, backing the younger man up until his back had hit a crate, pressing their bodies together again. He was usually more composed than this, but now.. he was pretty sure he could come just from dry humping against each other in the back of this tent. His imagination over the last few weeks had more than made up for it. 

"Wait, hold on." Fick told him, leaning out of the kiss just long enough so that he could hoist himself up onto the crate that was against his back. He slid to the edge of it though, so that he could pull Brad in between his spread legs, arching his body so that he could press against Brad again. 

"Should've known you'd be a fucking hellion in the sack, sir." He said with a grin, pressing his mouth to the tender skin underneath Fick's jaw as he gave an experimental roll of his hips, just enough to grind their cocks together. It shouldn't have felt like much through the thick material of their MOPP suits, but it felt like fire wherever Fick touched him - one hand gripping hard onto his waist, the other pressed to the bare skin at the side of his neck. 

The touch was gone after a moment, although Fick didn't go far, he just leaned back far enough that he could roughly pull the jacket of Brad's MOPP open along with his flak vest, dropping his hands down to undo the belt and clasp on his trousers once the jacket was out of the way, "You haven't seen the half of it." He promised, sly smirk on his lips, "And cut the 'sir' bullshit. When I'm touching your cock, you're to call me 'Nate'." He told him, before dipping his hand into Brad's trousers to wrap his fingers tight around his cock. 

A moan was startled out of him at that, and he dropped his head to Fick's shoulder, "Aye-aye, si- _Nate_."

The angle was a little awkward with Nate sitting up on the crate, and his touch was far too dry, but he made do well enough, slowly stroking Brad's cock as he coaxed his face back up to his so that he could press their lips together again. 

Brad could only moan in response, not sure whether to chase the pleasure of Nate sucking on his tongue or his hand on his cock. Nate's hand was calloused, his grip firm. He'd been hard as a fucking rock the second Nate had slid his tongue into his mouth, and yet, it wasn't quite enough. 

"Wait, let me-" He gritted out, pushing his hands between them so that he could pull Nate's MOPP jacket open too, shrugging his own one off in the process along with his flak vest and letting it drop to the floor behind them. 

"Sitrep? What's the plan of action?" Nate asked, that same grin still tugging on his lips as he withdrew his hand from Brad's trousers, shoving his own jacket down off his shoulders.

He paused for a moment to run the situation through in his head. He knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted to strip Nate of his entire fucking MOPP suit, he wanted to spread him out underneath him, and he wanted to fuck him until he couldn't remember his own name. He knew that wasn't exactly a realistic option though - they didn't have much privacy here, and he wasn't sure how much time they had either before somebody came looking for them. Still, the flush was high on Nate's cheekbones, his green eyes bright with lust, and _fuck_.. he wanted so much more than a quick fumble in the back of a supply tent. He knew he had to be realistic about their situation though. 

"Given that we lack the proper supplies, and that neither of us has had anything close to resembling a shower in almost three weeks; I think the best we can do right now is jerk each other off."

Ideally, he'd liked to have dropped to his knees and taken Nate apart with his mouth - or to go with his earlier plan of fucking him until he couldn't see straight. But like he'd said, despite the fact that Marines made do, a basic standard of personal hygiene was pretty important to him when it came to either sucking or fucking. 

Nate stopped trying to wrestle himself out of his MOPP suit at that, although his pause didn't last long as he reached down to shove his hand into one of his leg pockets of his own trousers, "So, personal hygiene notwithstanding, how far will these get us?" He asked with a grin, shoving a condom and a bottle of hand lotion in Brad's direction. 

He just looked down at them for a moment, his head swimming with the realisation that Nate had come prepared for this, "You sly motherfucker." He teased, "Where the fuck did you get rubbers?"

"They're useful for combat jacks. Less mess." Nate told him, that same grin pulling at his lips as he pulled Brad in for another kiss. 

For a moment, he let himself get lost in the kiss. He dropped the condom and the hand lotion on the crate next to where Nate was sat, sliding his arms around Nate's waist so that he could pull him closer instead. Nate wrapped his legs around his hips, gasping into his mouth when he rolled their hips together again. 

"You think we have time to actually fuck?" 

"Depends. Can you be quick for me, Sergeant?" 

"Won't be a problem, I can assure you of that." He promised, holding Nate by the chin to steady him so that he could dip his tongue into Nate's mouth again, although he didn't quite go as far as to kiss him. He could usually hold his own when it came to stamina, but he had no shame in admitting here that he was currently so turned on, he could probably come just from Nate sucking on his tongue the way he had been. 

"Well then, hop to." 

He was maybe a little bit proud of how breathless Nate already sounded. 

Nate shoved forward slightly so that he had to step back, before sliding down off the crate again. He'd already stripped out of his MOPP jacket, and then it was a quick fumble to pull the suspenders of his trousers down so that he could shove the trousers themselves down his thighs. 

He put his hands on Nate's hips to still him before he could pull his briefs down though, turning him so that he was facing the crate he'd just been sat on, "You're going to be the death of me." He breathed, using his own weight to trap Nate between the crate and his own body. 

Nate's only response was a slightly breathless laugh, moan caught in his throat as he pushed his still clothed ass back against Brad's cock. He was surprised, actually. In every fantasy he'd had involving this situation, Nate had always been a little more reserved. He hadn't expected for him to be so desperate and open about wanting to be fucked. He certainly had no complaints about it though.

He held back his own groan as he pressed his hands to Nate's hips, sliding them underneath the material of his t-shirt so that he could touch bare skin. Nate's skin was smooth, although he could feel the slightly rough edge of a scar on his right hip. It was easy to imagine fucking into Nate like this, pressing the younger man down onto the crate as he pulled him back onto his cock. It was the easiest way to go about it in this situation too, considering they didn't have the time or the luxury of stripping completely naked. 

He mouthed his way along the side of Nate's neck, his breath catching in his throat as he ground his cock against his ass, "If we were back in the States, I'd drop to my knees right now and open you up like this. Fuck you with my tongue until you were begging for my cock." He breathed, reveling in the way Nate moaned at his words. 

"Brad, come on.. please." Nate honest to God whined, pressing back against him. He reached back to grip the back of Brad's neck, turning his face towards him to that he could press their lips together in another filthy kiss.

"Fuck.. okay, okay."

He grabbed the bottle of hand lotion that Nate had brought while the younger man busied himself with shoving his briefs down around his thighs. While he slicked his fingers, he couldn't help but take notice of the fact that Nate had a fantastic ass - smooth, pale skin, well toned, and he could see the dimples at the small of his back peeking out from just underneath where his t-shirt had ridden up slightly. He pressed his mouth to the younger man's clothed shoulder as he slowly pressed in with one finger, taking notice of the hitch in his breath, "Have you ever done this before?" He asked. 

"Not with another person." Nate admitted, smiling sheepishly at Brad's inquisitive eyebrow raise, "I've done it to myself a couple of times." 

He groaned as he dropped his forehead to Nate's shoulder, feeling the slight shake as the younger man laughed under his breath, "I mean it, you're actually going to kill me." He murmured, raising his head slightly so that he could press his mouth to his neck again. He could picture it perfectly, Nate pressing a finger into himself while he jerked off, bringing himself to the edge with his hand on his cock and his fingers in his ass. It really wasn't helping his self-restraint, and he was pretty sure this was going to be over a lot quicker than either of them wanted it to be. 

Mindful of the fact that his hands were big - and he wasn't about to pretend that he wasn't aware of that fact - he took his time with opening Nate up first with one finger, and then with two and then three once he'd gotten used to the stretch, while keeping it in mind that they were on a time limit here. They had to be quick, but he didn't want to rush through the preparation and end up hurting Nate either. Eventually though, the younger man was gasping as he fucked three fingers into him, his fingers gripping the hand that Brad still had braced on his waist. 

"Fuck, please, Brad. I'm ready." He gasped, his breath coming in harsh pants where he had his face turned towards Brad's. 

"You sure? I don't want to hurt you." He murmured, dragging his lips along the curve of Nate's jaw. He'd fucked guys before, but this was apparently Nate's first time, and he just.. he was unwilling to rush into it. Obviously Nate wasn't made of glass, but he wanted to take care of him, and that in itself was out of the ordinary. Like he'd said, he'd fucked guys before, but it had all been very to the point. He'd paid for it most of the time. 

"Yeah, I'm ready." 

"Alright, hold on." He murmured as he pulled his fingers out, reaching over for the condom that he'd left earlier. 

"Wait, not like this." Nate told him. He hoisted himself back up onto the crate that he'd been sitting on before, and somehow, he managed to kick his trousers and briefs all the way off without taking his boots off, "Like this, come on." He told Brad, bracing himself back on his elbows so that Brad could fit into the space between his legs again. 

He held in a groan at the realisation that Nate wanted to do this face to face, and he stepped in close to him again, pressing their mouths together in a quick kiss, "Like this?" He said softly, pressing his hand to the underside of Nate's knee so that he could pull his leg up around his hip. 

"Yeah, I want to watch you."

He held Nate's gaze as he reached down with his other hand to wrap his fingers around his cock, watching the arousal play across the younger man's face as he slowly moved his hand, twisting his wrist as he stroked to the head of his cock. The flush on his cheeks was still there, spreading down to disappear into the neckline of his t-shirt. It was his fucking eyes though, the pupils blown wide with lust, the green of his irises just about visible. Then, of course, there was his fucking mouth - but they'd be here all day if he started waxing poetic about Nate's mouth right now. 

"Brad, you need to stop." He told him breathlessly, his fingers pressing in hard where his hands were resting on Brad's triceps, "I don't want to come until you're fucking me." 

"Alright, fuck." He murmured, willing himself to keep it under control. He supposed it was a good thing really that they didn't have much time here, because he'd be pretty pissed with himself if they had all the time in the world and he was still on the verge of coming before he even had his cock in Nate. 

He shoved his own trousers and briefs down around his thighs, just far enough down to free his cock, before pulling Nate close again. Before he could reach for the condom though, Nate beat him to it, quickly tearing the foil wrapper open. He closed his eyes as Nate rolled the condom down over his cock, taking a deep breath in through his nose as the arousal washed over him yet again as Nate jerked him a couple of times, his hand slick with the lotion. When he opened his eyes, it was to find Nate watching him with that same sly smirk, "Come on, or are you waiting for me to beg?" 

"Next time." He promised, letting a grin crawl over his own face. 

He leaned in to kiss Nate again then, although the younger man broke the kiss after a moment to lean back onto his elbows, wrapping his legs around Brad's hips. It only took him a moment to line his cock up with Nate's hole, and then they were both moaning as he slowly pushed in. Fuck.. Nate's body was tight and hot around his cock, and it was only fueling his arousal to know that he was the first one to have fucked Nate like this. 

Nate hissed, closing his eyes as Brad continued to slowly work his cock in, "Am I hurting you?" He asked, and it took everything in him to pause his movements, to not just fuck into the younger man like his body was telling him to. 

"No, it's just.. I'm going to be feeling it in the morning." Nate huffed out, a smile splitting his face momentarily, "Fuck knows I'm certainly feeling it now."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No, just.. slow."

He was pretty sure the pace they were going at now could be considered glacial, but he didn't want to go any faster than this, considering Nate had asked him to slow down. He was pretty sure he'd been hurting him, despite the fact that he'd insisted he wasn't, and he didn't want to do anything that would turn Nate off a repeat encounter. He slowly worked his cock in with tiny thrusting movements, letting himself press in slightly further each time. Nate was white-knuckling the edge of the crate, but his cock was still hard, and his mouth was dropped open in a way that conveyed he was getting some sort of pleasure from it. 

Eventually he bottomed out, and he hung his head slightly with a groan as he stilled the movement of his hips. He could hear Nate struggling to catch his breath below him, and he reached out to press the palm of his hand against the younger man's cheek, "Nate-"

"I'm okay.. just- give me a second, your cock is fucking huge." 

He leaned slightly further over Nate while he waited for him to adjust to the stretch, tilting his head towards him. It didn't take more than that for Nate to get the hint, and he leaned up the rest of the way so that he could press their mouths together. He was hoping to distract Nate from the burn with his tongue in his mouth, and it seemed his idea had worked - as it didn't feel like any time at all before Nate was sucking on his tongue again, flexing his hips slightly against Brad's as though he was testing the waters. 

"I'm good. Come on, fuck me." He breathed into Brad's mouth, catching his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. 

He leaned back out of the kiss, dropping his hands back to the younger man's hips as he pulled back slightly, only to thrust back in with a groan that Nate echoed, "Fuck, you feel so good." He huffed, gritting his teeth. 

It didn't take them long to fall into a rhythm, and he slid his hands underneath the fabric of Nate's t-shirt so that he could press his fingers into the bare skin of his hips. He could feel Nate's legs up around his hips, his fingers biting into the muscle at the back of his shoulder. The angle wasn't quite right like this - Nate was perched on the very edge of the crate, his body arched up so that he could touch Brad while he fucked into him. It would have been easier to do this with both of them standing and with Nate bent over the crate, but fuck.. he was totally on board with Nate's idea of doing it this way, just so he could look him in the eye. 

Nate's cheeks were flushed, his mouth open in a silent moan. His lower lip was wet from where he'd licked it, and Brad couldn't resist leaning in to taste again, "Hold on, let me.." He murmured against Nate's lips, pulling one hand away from his hip so that he could slide it underneath Nate's right leg, pulling it up from around his own hips and up closer towards his body. He supposed it was a blessing that Nate was as surprisingly flexible as he was. 

It seemed the change in angle was what they'd been looking for, and Nate gasped as he arched his back towards Brad's body, " _Fuck_ , right there." He whined, his blunt nails digging in where he was still holding onto Brad. 

He thrusted his hips hard, moving his free hand up so that he could drag his fingers through Nate's hair. His hair wasn't quite long enough to hold onto, but Nate got the hint and dropped his head back into Brad's touch, baring his throat in the process. He couldn't resist leaning forward to press his mouth to the exposed skin, scraping his teeth along the taut tendon in his neck. He knew he couldn't leave marks, but it was enough to press his mouth there, dragging his tongue along the younger man's pulse point. 

Nate moaned, and even just that broken sound was enough to send the heat curling in his stomach again. He was so fucking turned on - the combination of Nate's legs tight around his hips, the desperate noises that were being dragged from his throat with every thrust, even the musk of three week old sweat that he could smell when he pressed his face against Nate's neck - it was enough to send sparks of pleasure up his spine every time he moved. 

"Come on, Nate.. fuck." He gasped, leaning back slightly so that he could look him in the eye again as he continued to snap his hips. 

"I can't- shit, Brad, I- fuck." 

"So fucking gorgeous." He groaned. Well yeah, Nate was stunning like this. He looked almost dizzy with lust, and he really doubted that he'd be able to last too much longer at this point. He was determined to have Nate finish first though - he wanted to be able to commit what Nate looked like as he came to memory. So he dropped a hand down to wrap his fingers around Nate's cock, moving his hand in time with his thrusts. 

"Shit. I'm- unh." Nate moaned, writhing underneath Brad's touch. It seemed he was trying to push back against Brad's hips as he fucked into him, but also press his hips up into his hand, and he couldn't decide which point of pleasure to chase, "God, I'm so fucking close." He whined, closing his eyes as he clamped his teeth down on his lower lip. 

"I need you to come for me, Nate. I watch to watch you come, I want to see you lose control and make a mess of yourself." He growled as he ducked his face back against the younger man's neck, scraping his teeth against the tender skin underneath his ear as he snapped his hips sharply. 

Nate arched his back again, a broken moan ripped from his throat as he finally spilled over Brad's fist. From where he had his face pressed into his neck, he couldn't quite make out what Nate was saying as he rode the waves of his orgasm, but he could feel him shaking as he held him close, "God, Brad, you're so-" He started, seeming to relax against him slightly for a moment before he arched up into him again, "Come on, fuck."

He caught Nate's chin in his hand as he kissed him again, although after a moment he could do little more than pant into his mouth as the pleasure washed over him. He thrusted his hips hard, and he could just about make out the feeling of Nate smoothing his hands over the muscle at the back of his shoulders. He could still feel Nate shaking slightly from the intensity of his orgasm, although he seemed focused on his task as he sucked on Brad's tongue and flexed his hips against his, "Come on, Brad. I want you to come inside me." 

That was all it took to push him over the edge, and he shuddered hard as he came, moaning into Nate's mouth. 

Goddamn. 

For a moment after it was over, all he could do was lean heavily against Nate as he tried to catch his breath. He knew he wasn't the only one struggling with it though, and he could feel the way Nate's hands still gripped the back of his shoulders. 

"Fuck."

He couldn't help but huff out a slightly breathless laugh in response to Nate's remark, and he leaned back just far enough that he could look down at the younger man, "My thoughts exactly." He murmured, surprised to hear the shake in his own voice. He was pretty sure he couldn't be blamed though, it had been a long time since he'd come as hard as that. He was pretty sure he was still seeing stars

Nate cracked a small smile at that, although it didn't last long as he glanced down between them. They were still pressed up together, Brad's cock still in Nate, while Nate still had his legs hitched up around Brad's hips. They'd finished with the actual fucking, but there was still no question about what they'd been doing if anyone were to walk in on them right now, "Time to get cleaned up." Nate murmured after a moment, letting his legs drop down from Brad's hips. 

They both hissed as Brad pulled out, and he turned away to deal with the condom while Nate slid down off the crate. He tossed the condom behind the crate once he had tied it off, glancing in Nate's direction as he pulled his trousers back up and redid the zipper and the belt. He wasn't sure what to make of the neutral expression on Nate's face as he bent to retrieve his briefs and trousers from where he'd kicked them off earlier, although he couldn't help but risk a last glance at Nate's legs before he dressed again. His legs were as attractive as the rest of him - miles long, lean, toned muscle. He really needed to stop cataloguing everything he noticed about the younger man. 

He glanced away after a moment as he pulled his MOPP jacket and flak vest back on, swallowing thickly as he fastened them. The reality of the situation was just about hitting him now, the realisation that he'd just fucked his Platoon Commander. 

_Fuck._

There were so many types of trouble this could bring on if it ever got out. He was in Nate's direct chain of command, it could be seen as Nate taking advantage of one of his subordinates, using his higher rank to coerce him into something. That certainly hadn't been the case, but he was only a Sergeant, he was pretty sure his opinion wouldn't matter much if it came down to a disciplinary hearing. Then there was 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell'. Both of them could be discharged from the Corps - and he wasn't sure where Nate stood on the whole thing, but being a Marine was his career. 

When he glanced back up at Nate, it was to find that he'd already finished dressing and that he was watching him, slouched back against the crate that they had just fucked on. 

"Sir- _Nate_.. are we okay?" He asked, resisting the urge to look away. He wasn't sure what their next move was, but he had to at least know if Nate was panicking about what they had just done and was planning on reporting it. 

He didn't look panicked, if he was being perfectly honest. But he didn't say anything that conveyed otherwise either. He simply held out a hand to Brad after a moment, which Brad hesitantly took and let himself be pulled in. He wasn't really sure what to say as Nate tucked his head against his shoulder once he had pulled him close, sliding his arms around his waist. He simply put his own arms somewhat awkwardly around Nate's shoulders, swallowing again at the feeling of Nate's breath huffing gently against the bare skin of his neck, "Of course we're okay." Nate said softly after a moment of silence, "Just let me have this for a minute before we go back." 

He couldn't help but smile then, letting his arms fall into a more natural embrace where they rested around Nate's shoulders. He dragged the fingers of one hand gently through Nate's buzzed short hair, smiling as he felt him nuzzling his face slightly against his shoulder. 

He knew that there was nothing soft about Nate. He'd more than earned his place as their Platoon Commander - he was a hell of a shot with a rifle, he was the only competent leader that they had out here. He knew he could hold his own too, he was soft spoken and eloquent, but he'd heard of the vicious dressing down he'd given to Griego more than once. He'd been through so much with this fucking war though. He'd looked after every man in his Platoon, all while trying to keep the shit from rolling too far down on top of them - losing the respect of his superiors from Godfather to Schwetje in the process. So in this moment right now, where it was just the two of them, he couldn't help but want to be soft and gentle with him. 

"This seems like as good a time as any to break the news." Nate said quietly after a moment of silence, "I don't.. I think I'm leaving the Marine Corps." 

He honestly didn't know what to say to that, and so he just nodded minutely, continuing to drag his fingers through Nate's hair. He wasn't sure how they were supposed to manage without Nate. Without him, all they were left with was Ferrando and Schwetje and Griego - he'd seen how Third Platoon had fallen apart because their Commander was a fucking lunatic. 

Nate leaned back after a moment though, his expression scrutinizing as he looked up at Brad. He'd noticed it before, but it was even more obvious when they were this close that he had a good three inches of height on Nate, despite the fact that the younger man was already tall at 6'1". 

"I don't think I can do this anymore, Brad. When I joined up, I thought we'd be making a difference, I thought we'd be doing some good in countries that had been ravaged by war. We've been here nearly three weeks, and what good have we done? Sure, we've killed a few bad guys, but we've killed far more women and children, and I- I don't know how much more I can live with. We haven't done enough good to justify how much we've fucked up this country, and the only saving grace I have is that I haven't lost any of my men. But that could change once Godfather eventually finds us a mission to send us into Baghdad. I couldn't live with myself if I ordered one of you into a situation you wouldn't come back from, and the other Officers don't see that." 

It was heartbreaking to hear the way that Nate's voice cracked as he spoke, to realise that the younger man really had lost all faith in the Military he'd signed up for. 

So he just shrugged, running his fingers through the younger man's hair again, "I'm not going to try and change your mind. We'll be sad to see you go, but this isn't your life." He murmured. He knew it was the truth though, just like it was the same truth for Ray and for Walt. He was a career Marine, but staying in for life wasn't for some guys. He knew this place would ruin Nate if he let it, and so out of the two options? Having Nate leave the Corps and move God knows where in the country was certainly the better option. 

Nate looked up at him, worrying his lower lip with his teeth, "I don't know what to do." He admitted, "I could stay, but-"

"No, you couldn't." He told him. When Nate just looked at him, he sighed and shrugged, "We both know that you need to get out. You're a good man - you're idealistic, and you're optimistic, and the Corps will strip that from you if you let it. You need to get out." 

"Brad-" 

"I'm not going to try and make you stay. But I need you to promise you won't try to make me leave either." 

He knew it was probably a little presumptuous of him to assume that Nate would still want this once they got back to the States, once he'd left the Corps and they were free to go their separate ways. As far as he was aware, Nate could have planned on this being a one time thing, and felt he had no obligation to even keep in touch with Brad once he'd left the Corps. He knew what he wanted though, and he couldn't let himself leave this tent without at least putting it on the table. If he was shot down, well, at least he'd have his answer. 

"You w-"

"Being a Marine is my career. I've been in the Corps eight years, and I hope to at least make my twenty before I leave. This here could be something with substance to it though, so if that's the case, I need you to understand first that I'm not leaving the Corps." He continued. He was a little surprised at himself actually. He didn't do this - he didn't do strings attached, he certainly didn't do feelings. And yet, Nate made him want to not let this go. 

Thankfully, Nate seemed to understand what it was that he was saying, and a small smile split his face after a moment, "We're Marines, we make do." He said with a small smile.

He wasn't quite sure what to say then, just because he really wasn't used to doing this. He wasn't used to opening himself up to another person. In his experience, opening yourself up to people was the quickest way to get yourself hurt. He trusted Nate though, maybe somewhat against his better judgment. 

"Nothing is set in stone yet, but I'm sure the papers will take a while to go through once I put them in anyway." Nate started, still looking up at him with that same small smile, "And we have three weeks of liberty when we get back. Other than visiting my family in Baltimore, I have no plans for those three weeks." 

"You don't live on base, do you?" He asked, trying his best not let the smile crawl onto his own face. He was pretty sure he understood what Nate was getting at, but he wanted to be sure. 

"No. I do, however, live with another officer I went through OCS with." 

"I live alone." He shrugged, finally giving in to the smile, "And I have a king sized bed. With white sheets. On which I plan to strip you naked and fuck you blind." 

Nate's grin turned a little dirtier at that, and he pressed slightly closer to Brad, his hands inching underneath the fabric of Brad's MOPP jacket again. It seemed he wasn't trying for anything more though, that he just wanted to touch. He certainly had no complaints.

"I am also an excellent breakfast cook." He continued. 

"You don't have to convince me, Brad. You had me at king sized bed." Nate teased with a grin, "Although, I'd probably say yes to Jacks at this point if he offered me a good night sleep in a king sized bed." 

"With all due respect, fuck that. Don't even joke." He said with a grin, sliding his hands up to cup Nate's face between his hands, pressing their lips together again, "And if I have my way, you won't be getting anything close to a good night sleep once I have you in my bed." He murmured against his lips. 

Nate huffed out a soft breath of amusement at that, raising up on his toes again to more reach Brad's height as he licked into his mouth. 

Honestly, he could have stayed here all night, wrapped up with Nate like this. He knew they'd already been here too long though, and he wouldn't be surprised if people were already out looking for them. Ray, especially, he became like a disobedient child when he went too long without Brad's attention. Still, at least they were both dressed now though, they could at least attempt to lie their way out of it if anyone found them in here. 

Nate pulled away after a moment, giving him a fond smile, "We should probably go back."

"Yeah." He murmured, stroking his thumb gently along the high arch of Nate's cheekbone. He couldn't exactly say that it was the first time he'd noticed, but Nate was very pretty. Like he'd already pointed out, he had a mouth to die for, but with his green eyes and high cheekbones, he made for a gorgeous sight. He supposed it wasn't exactly a surprise that he was totally gone for him.

He bent to retrieve his rifle then, handing Nate his weapon as he slid the strap of his own over his head. He turned away, about to head for the entrance to the tent, but Nate's hand on his wrist stopped him, "You all squared away, Sergeant?"

"I am if you are, sir." 

Nate smiled then, stroking his thumb gently over the bone of Brad's wrist before letting him go. 

He followed Nate out of the tent, clearing his throat as they stood just outside the entrance to the tent. He knew that there was nothing suspicious about their behaviour, and it certainly wasn't like the Humvees had been stationed right outside the tent where somebody might have heard them, but he just.. he felt a little like everybody was watching them, like they just knew. That was obviously him just being paranoid though, because the rest of the Platoon was just a little under two hundred meters away, and most of them were still sleeping. 

They walked back to their Humvees in silence, although Nate knocked his elbow gently against Brad's just before they were about to part ways for their respective victor, "Should be quiet until morning, at least. Rotate your team, try to get some sleep before morning." He told him with a small smile. 

"You too, sir." 

Nate smiled again then, just a slight lifting of the corners of his mouth, "Keep your radios on." He said, reaching out to press his hand to Brad's upper arm for a moment as he passed him. The touch wasn't much, but it had him smiling as he turned to watch Nate walking away before he headed for his own Humvee. 

When he got there, Walt had since woken up, and Ray was sat back in the seat that Reporter usually occupied. The two of them were engaged in conversation, although it looked like Ray was the one doing most of the talking - which wasn't unusual in itself. He just hoped that he managed to bring Walt back out of himself a little. Trombley was still nowhere to be seen. Ray looked up from whatever he'd been saying as Brad approached, "Hey, you find the LT?" 

"Yeah." He said as he got into the Humvee, accepting the radio that Ray handed to him. It seemed he'd had the wire stretched back over the seats so that he could sit in the rear seat and still be on the comms if needed. 

"What'd he want?"

"For me to fuck his brains out in the back of a supply tent." He deadpanned. He didn't worry about saying things like that, mainly just because he knew it wouldn't be believed. Nate was an upstanding officer, even he had been surprised when Nate had first let it be known that he wanted this from him. 

As he imagined, Ray rolled his eyes, slouching down a little further in his seat, "Fine. Don't tell me, then." 

He worked to keep the grin off his face as he turned back to face the front, settling back against the seat so that he was comfortable, "Have you two gotten enough sleep?" He asked. He didn't mind staying awake if they hadn't, but there was no point in all three of them staying up if Walt and Ray had already slept as much as they were going to. 

Surprisingly, it was Walt who spoke up - although he had a feeling that Ray had deliberately let the other man speak first, "Yeah, Brad, thanks." 

"Alright." He nodded, handing the radio back over his shoulder to Ray, "Wake me either in two hours, we get orders to move, or somebody is looking for me." He told them, folding his arms as he slouched back into the seat again. 

"Aye-aye, Sergeant." 

He rolled his eyes at Ray's tone, although he chose not to dignify it with a response. He simply closed his eyes, letting the sounds of Ray and Walt's hushed conversation lull him to sleep. 


End file.
